Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6)

by Christine Pope

  “No, no — ” I broke off, then shook my head in frustration. “For a lie requires some intent, and I do not believe it is ever his intention to prevaricate. It is more that his tongue can run away from him in the heat of the moment.”

  “Ah.”

  That was all Lord Edmar said, but I could see a frown beginning to settle itself on his fine brow. At that unfortunate moment, the king himself appeared at the duke’s shoulder. He had been smiling, but as soon as he saw me standing there, and the spinning wheel sitting idle, a scowl to match the one Lord Edmar wore settled on his features.

  “What’s this?” King Elsdon snapped. “I expected to see you hard at work, my lady.”

  I opened my mouth to reply — how, I knew not — but the duke spoke first.

  “She claims there was some misunderstanding, and that her father misspoke.”

  “He lied?”

  I could not contradict the king. It had taken all my courage to attempt some explanation with Lord Edmar, and I had none left. All I could do was look down at the floor of smooth and polished stone, and wish that it would somehow manage to swallow me up.

  But the gods did not see fit to give it that ability, and so I remained where I was, with my king and one of his greatest courtiers staring at me as if I were some kind of particularly loathsome insect that had had the temerity to enter their hallowed halls. Neither of them spoke, and it became clear enough that they expected some sort of reply from me.

  Once again, I cleared my throat. “Your Majesty, as I was not there, I don’t know what he said. I — ”

  “Ah, but I was there,” Lord Edmar broke in. “One of Baron Levender’s more tedious gatherings, as it turned out, but there was one man, a rather common sort, who was having the sort of spectacular losses with the dice that one just had to watch. He made all sorts of claims to Levender’s man, the one running the table, and at last said that it did not matter how much money he lost, for his daughter was so wondrously talented that she could verily spin straw into gold.”

  “And you believed it?” I exclaimed, shaken past caring whether I offended him. “Your Grace, you are a man of the world. Surely you must have known his story was nonsense.”

  Dark brows drew together. “I will admit that was my first instinct, but then I heard the murmurs, how people were saying that must be the explanation, for a man who lost as much at the tables as he did, week after week, must have a secret source of income. Else, my lady,” the duke went on, giving me another one of those steely looks, “your family must surely have been on the street some years ago. Or do you have some other explanation?”

  Of course I did not, for my father took care that I would never know the details of our finances. Perhaps it did seem strange to the outside observer that we should manage to go on year after year and suffer such astounding losses, and yet not have to endure any material alteration in our circumstances. Yes, there had been some belt-tightening, but not to the extent where we had to move our residence, or do completely without servants.

  I shook my head, since I could not trust myself to speak. My legs had begun to tremble, although I hoped my heavy skirts might hide the evidence of my mounting fear.

  The two men exchanged an unreadable glance. Or at least I could not begin to decipher it.

  Then Lord Edmar said, tone heavy, precise, “Perhaps you do not understand the rules of the gaming table, my lady. But when a man owes his host a goodly sum, and claims he has the means to provide that sum, he must do so within three days, or all is forfeit.”

  “All is forfeit”? What did he mean by that? Would they take our house, our meager belongings? Would we at last be compelled to seek sanctuary with my Aunt Lyselle?

  Since I said nothing, the duke went on, “I see you do not understand. Because your father claimed that his daughter could spin straw into gold, and placed that claim as surety against his bet, then the debt must be repaid with such. Otherwise….” He stopped there, and seemed to shake his head, as if showing for the first time some concern for my welfare.

  The king had no such scruples, however. Eyes narrowing, he said harshly, “Otherwise, the debt will be declared forfeit, and you will both pay with your lives.”

  Chapter 4

  There was no question of my going home. No, immediately after my confrontation with the king and the duke, two pairs of guards appeared to escort me to a cell far below the grand rooms of the palace itself. A short time later, the spinning wheel and the pile of straw were deposited in my cell, along with the chair that accompanied them. Well, at least His Majesty did not expect me to sit on the cold stone floor while attempting to perform the impossible. Why he had not brought me to this cell to begin with, I did not know, but perhaps he had wished to play at courtesy when he had thought everything would go his way. Now, however….

  For some reason, I could not even weep. Perhaps it was only that this had all come as such a shock that my mind hadn’t quite yet absorbed what was happening. Yes, that had to be it. Sooner or later, understanding would blossom, and then….

  I leaned my head against the bars of the cell and took in a breath, then another. This was not the time to panic. I had to think of something. After all, they had given me three days.

  Oh, yes, of course, I mocked myself. Within the space of three days, you will have accomplished something that no alchemist has yet to manage. For of course men had been attempting to make gold from dross for uncounted centuries. Straw into gold, I had to admit, was a new one, however.

  Hopelessly, I turned away from the cell bars to survey my new surroundings. There was a mean little pallet laid on top of a sort of stone shelf protruding from the wall, and a basin of water, but that was all, besides the hated spinning wheel. I already detested the look of it.

  At least I appeared to be the only prisoner here. Perhaps there were other levels that had their own occupants, but I was alone. It was possible that the king had shown some mercy and made sure that I, a sheltered young woman, would not be housed next to any male criminals.

  Since I didn’t know what else to do, I made my way over to the chair and sat down. By then it must have been very late, and yet I had no inclination to lie down on the pallet that had been provided for me. Doing so seemed too much like an admission of defeat. The chill from the stone floor had already begun to penetrate my thin slippers, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to will away the sensation of encroaching cold.

  I heard footsteps approaching, and my heart began to beat a little faster. Was it possible that the king had already decided his punishment was far too severe, and had sent someone to free me?

  But no, the person who appeared then was my father, with a guard to either side. Oh, gods…were they going to put him in a cell down here as well? What would happen to Iselda?

  That did not seem to be the plan, however, for the guards backed away, allowing us some privacy even as my father approached the bars of my cell.

  “Oh, Annora,” he began, but I fastened him with as severe a gaze as I could muster, and interrupted,

  “Do not bother with apologies, Father, for I fear there is nothing you can say that would make all this any better! What in the world were you thinking?”

  He scowled then, obviously annoyed by my brusque tone, for I had never spoken to him in such a manner before. Then again, he had never given me reason to, even with all our previous disagreements.

  “I was thinking they would not be such fools as to believe such a thing! But I was in a tight corner, and needed some way to get out of it. I would have paid my debt.”

  “How? For I certainly cannot spin straw into gold, and so I fail to see how you could have repaid such a sum, if it truly was as great as Lord Edmar seemed to imply.”

  My father then had the strangest expression cross his face. Truly, I could not say for sure what exactly it was. Not shame, precisely. It was more as if he had been caught at something, and desperately wished there existed some way of avoiding the consequences.

&nb
sp; At last he said, “I would have repaid it with your mother’s dowry.”

  “‘My mother’s dowry’?” I repeated, certain I must not have heard him correctly. “But it was small, and gone years ago.”

  His eyes would not meet mine. “That is not precisely the truth. It was actually quite a large sum. Those are the funds that have kept our household going all these years.”

  I had thought I was angry earlier, but now my rage seemed to come boiling up out of nowhere, like the eruption of one of the geysers in Daleskeld Province, far to the north. Fingers wrapped around the bars of my cell, I spat, “Kept your gambling habits going all these years, more to the point. For I did not see that money going toward better shoes for your daughters, or lamb for the dinner table instead of mutton. How dare you take what was mine and Iselda’s, and use it for your own petty weaknesses!”

  “You have no right to speak to me that way — ”

  “I have every right, for not only have you taken that which was not yours, but your ridiculous lies will now cost us both our lives!”

  Instead of being shamefaced or worried, my father’s expression took on a crafty air. “Perhaps not.”

  “‘Perhaps not’?” I repeated incredulously. “You heard what the king said!”

  “Yes, I did, but I also had a chance to speak with Lord Edmar privately afterward. He said that perhaps we might be able to work out some sort of arrangement, once the king’s temper has cooled a bit.”

  I did not like the sound of that overmuch. “‘Arrangement’?”

  “Yes. He had high praise for your beauty and your spirit, and said that he could never allow such a treasure to be wasted. After a suitable time has passed, he will speak to the king on your behalf, and will see that you are freed.” A pause, and my father added, “At which time you will of course show the duke your gratitude.”

  My life might have been a sheltered one, but even I understood what he meant by that. “So,” I said slowly, “you would prostitute your daughter to save your own hide.”

  “Must you be so harsh? It is a way for both of us to live through this. And if you would stop to think about this logically, you would see how good this could be for you. Lord Edmar is a widower. Charm him enough, and you could be a great lady.”

  I couldn’t help it. Despite my desperate situation, I found myself laughing, and then shook my head. “Oh, Father, I fear your brain is still befuddled with drink. Why in the world would a man of Lord Edmar’s station marry one such as me, when he can have me on his own terms, and still seek a wife who could bring land and riches to the marriage?” Truly, my father’s delusions seemed to know no bounds. But then I sobered, thinking of how I might have avoided this nightmare, if only Cordell had spoken to me a few hours earlier. “You would have done better to let me marry Cordell. At least then you would have been guaranteed a place of shelter in your old age, when all your funds had truly been exhausted.”

  My father’s features twisted with rage. “Do you think I would have ever allowed you to waste yourself on someone so common? A servant?”

  “A good man,” I countered. “One whose worth is probably greater than yours at the moment, if someone were to compare your balance sheets. But of course you never allowed me to see the household accounts, so I cannot say for certain.”

  “You were destined for better things than that. Better to be a duke’s mistress than a farmer’s wife.”

  I could only gape at him after he made that pronouncement. In that moment, I realized he truly did believe what he was saying and was not merely trying to convince me of the advantages of such an arrangement. And as I stared into his face, saw his anger that I would not meekly agree with whatever he proposed for me, I began to understand.

  “You wanted this all along,” I said slowly. “Oh, perhaps not these very circumstances — I cannot quite believe that level of iniquity, even now — but that is why you kept me so sheltered all this time, made no effort to arrange even an acceptable match. You hoped your path would cross with that of the right nobleman, and you would dangle me before him as a means of paying off your debts, so that you might keep more of the dowry money for yourself.”

  “That money is mine,” he rasped. I could not help but notice that he did not even attempt to deny the rest of what I had just said. “I earned it, from being locked in a loveless marriage, one that gave me no sons. What did you ever do to deserve it?”

  Blood going cold, I backed away from the bars. I needed to put some distance between us, even if it was only a few feet. “Get out,” I said, my voice twisted with loathing. “I have nothing more to say to you. You are not my father, for no father would ever utter the words you have spoken here this night.”

  He gave me a mocking little smile. “You are very noble now, Annora, but I think you may change your mind as that third day looms.”

  “Of course you hope I will,” I retorted. “For if I do not, then it is your head on the block as well as mine.”

  “Would you really do that?” he inquired, expression all false innocence. “For what would happen to Iselda, if she had no parent left to care for her?”

  “She would go to Aunt Lyselle, you snake, and far better for her to be with her aunt than with the unnatural creature who calls himself her father!”

  That seemed to sting him at last, for I thought I saw his eyes narrow slightly. But he only said, “Think on it, Annora,” then turned and walked away toward the stairs. The guards came up to flank him, and the three of them disappeared. Why he had been allowed to walk free, I could not say, but perhaps he had offered Iselda as his excuse, saying that she had no one else to look after her, and the king had agreed. After all, he already had one daughter of Benedic Kelsden locked up. He did not need them both.

  That was when my knees failed me, and I stumbled over to the chair and sank down upon it. The flush of anger receded, now that I was all alone, and I began to shiver. Truthfully, I could not say whether the chamber was really all that cold, or whether I shook from reaction. In the end, it probably did not matter one way or another.

  So many things made sense to me now. A horrible sense, but in a way I was almost glad that I knew. My father had never been one to show affection to his children, and I had accepted his behavior as what must be usual in such situations, since I had no way of knowing anything different. I had never been able to understand why my father had not contracted a marriage for me early on, for it would have relieved him of at least one mouth to feed. But, ever the gambler, he had waited, thinking that the risk he took might pay off for him one day.

  What in the world he would tell Iselda when he got home, I had no idea. Some self-serving lie, I was sure. Whether she would believe him or not was an entirely different matter. My sister had a way of seeing the truth in things, even though she could not have guessed at the depths of our father’s iniquity.

  Once again, I heard footsteps. This time I would not allow myself to hope that they promised any release, but I did raise my head to see who approached. It was one of the guards, a man probably some ten years older than I, with a pleasant enough face. In his hands he held a bundle of furs, soft and luxurious.

  “From His Grace, Lord Edmar,” the guard said, pushing them through the bars of my cell. They fell soundlessly to the stone floor, which at least appeared clean. “He did not wish you to take a chill down here.”

  No, of course not, I thought bitterly. It would not do for his conquest to have a runny nose or a sore throat.

  Even so, I rose from the chair and went to retrieve the furs. They were warm and softer than anything I had ever imagined. I wondered then if they were the same pelts the duke had with him in the carriage that brought us here.

  I could feel the guard’s eyes on me, watchful, curious, so I said, “Thank His Grace for his generosity. These will greatly ease my tenure here.”

  There. That sounded courteous enough. I knew my words would be taken directly to Lord Edmar, and he could think of them what he willed.

/>   The guard nodded and walked away, taking up his post near the stairs. I supposed I should be grateful that he did not intend to loiter too near my cell. The illusion of privacy was spurious at best, but it was better than nothing.

  I took the furs to the pallet and settled myself down on it, first taking off my slippers before pulling the threadbare blanket over me and then disposing the furs as best I could. By then, I could tell that it would indeed be quite chilly by the time the night was over, and I found myself glad of their warmth.

  And by the third day down here, would I be so grateful to the duke that I would do whatever he wished? I hoped I was stronger than that, but I just could not say.

  * * *

  One day passed, and another. Each morning, I was taken from my cell and guided to a bath chamber, where I could attend to my personal needs. Several changes of clothing had also been provided for me, far grander than anything I owned. Whence all this largesse had come from, no one said, but it did not require too much thought to determine that it must be Lord Edmar, making sure that I would have multiple reasons to show my gratitude to him. The empty hours were enough to drive anyone mad, but I coped as best I could, dozing much of the time, worrying about my sister and wondering what was happening at home during those periods when sleep eluded me.

  I must confess that by the evening of the second day, I found myself thinking it could not be so bad as all that. Yes, the duke was much older than I, but he was still a handsome man. Surely giving myself to him would be better than dying because of my father’s folly. And although I did not think that wayward man worthy of much consideration, I also did not want my stubbornness to result in Iselda losing the only parent she had left.

  All this time, the spinning wheel had still sat in the middle of my cell, seeming to mock me. Once or twice I had even picked up a few pieces of straw and attempted to feed them through the device, but of course all that came out on the other side was the same piece of straw, albeit a bit crumpled-looking. It was utterly mad that anyone should expect me to do such a thing.